


Quite the Hickey

by karenmcfadyyon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-28
Updated: 2010-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karenmcfadyyon/pseuds/karenmcfadyyon





	Quite the Hickey

"Quite the hickey?" John says to Rodney, when Rodney comes to see him in the infirmary the day after the whole adventure of being clinically dead and stuck in the Gate is over and done.

"Well, isn't it?" Rodney arches an eyebrow. "How would you describe it?"

"I haven't actually seen it," John admits and touches the gauze bandage. "How bad does it look?"

"It looks like a vampire gave you a hickey." Rodney sits down on the bed next to John's. "At least it stopped bleeding fairly quickly once that thing came loose."

"I almost wish I'd been around for that." John touches the gauze again. He can't stop touching the gauze, can't stop reassuring himself that there's nothing there but a very sore spot and antibiotic cream and gauze bandage. He's still got an IV in, even though he can't for the life of him figure out why he needs it. "Beckett won't let me out yet, though. He says my vitals are still a little erratic."

"That's hardly surprising, given that it was probably feeding on you." Rodney's expression is pensive for a moment. "Evolutionarily speaking, the bug is probably superior to its more sentient cousins because it feeds more slowly."

"How is that superior?" John touches his throat again.

Rodney folds his hands over the edge of the bed. "Well, we know from the Ancients' data and from the Athosian stories that the Wraith have great cullings, and then hibernate for generations until the human population returns to a level that makes them worth feeding on. It's extremely poor evolutionary design for an organism to develop in such a way that it overfeeds on its natural prey."

John nods thoughtfully. "But that could explain the whole hibernation thing."

"Absolutely. It would be a necessity to prevent the death of the species."

They look at each other for a moment.

"So, in other words," John says, "If they didn't hibernate, they'd all starve to death."

Rodney nods. "Not all at once, certainly, but yeah, I'd be willing to bet that the level of the population would drop to a non-sustainable level, although it's not my area of expertise."

John's tempted to say something snarky about this, but Rodney just saved all their asses, and he really thinks he ought to say something besides a personal thank you. "You did a helluva job, Rodney."

"Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about," Rodney says, and for once, he's a little...subdued. "I realized yesterday that maybe I'm not the best person to be on a team that may be seeing actual combat. I have no experience, I'm a scientist, and while bad things can happen in the lab or in cases when you're attempting to avert global destruction, things like having the Wraith chase us and shoot at us and damage the jumper and the jumper getting stuck and the possibility of having the jumper cut in half and venting all the atmosphere with vacuum replacing it—"

Rodney talks faster and faster as he goes, and John's obviously not on his game today because those hands are making him dizzy. "Rodney!"

Rodney stops. "What?"

John lifts his chin. "You're not leaving the team."

They look at each other again.

"I think you should probably rethink that," Rodney says, just a hint of regret in his tone.

"Do you want to leave the team or do you just think you should leave the team. Because believe me, in the unlikely event that we get stuck in the gate again, I want you with us."

"Because?" Rodney asks, and there's a subtle undertone in his voice that strikes John as a little anxious.

"Because you're probably the only person on this base who can save our asses in time, just like you did yesterday." And he believes that, he hopes Rodney can hear that belief in his voice.

Rodney lifts his chin in turn. "I panicked yesterday."

John holds Rodney's gaze with his own. "Yes, so? You still got the job done."

Irritated expression. "Because you and Ford prodded me hard enough to snap me out of it."

John studies Rodney. He wonders if Rodney has ever admitted to this kind of weakness before. "This time. You just need practice staying focused on the here and now and not borrowing trouble. And hey, I panicked, too. That thing was sucking me dry, I was willing to have Ford stop my heart and take the chance just so I didn't have to go all the way down with it. I mean, if I was gonna die, I'd just as soon choose the way, you know?"

Rodney's expression is skeptical now. "You panicked?"

John has to bite back a grin. "Yeah. I'm just used to dealing with the panic in combat. But I'll tell you a secret. If you listen to the radio while the pilots are in a combat situation, doesn't matter if they're chopper or fighter pilots, McKay, their voices go up like four octaves. Sounds like somebody's got our balls in a vise and we're getting ready to sing soprano."

John can tell Rodney doesn't quite believe him.

"Ah," Rodney says and folds his arms, his expression skeptical.

"Seriously." John laughs suddenly. "My dad had a tape of his own little sortie where he came up against a MIG. He was practically falsetto, even though he was still calm enough to keep talking."

Some indefinable tension in Rodney's shoulders eases. "Ah."

"So no, I'm not letting you off the team." John puts all the charm he's been told he has into his smile. "Seriously. So get over it. You got any protein bars on you?"

Rodney eyes him. "Yes, why?"

"Because Beckett's not feeding me and I'm starving." John puts all that charm into his smile again, and even though Rodney's expression is still skeptical, he hands the bar over.

"Thank you, again" John says cheerfully and tears the package open. "That's, what, two or three times you've saved my life?"

John can tell Rodney doesn't totally buy it, but it loosens him up anyway. He can also tell that Rodney's put away the idea of leaving the team.

"So, quite the hickey," he says again and grins. "I wonder if we can get it into the Guinness book of records."

"I'm not sure you'd want anyone to know who gave it to you," Rodney says drily.

And John can feel his grin get bigger because even if Rodney can be a cranky son of a bitch, he's a funny, cranky son of a bitch.

And he's John's funny, cranky son of a bitch.

So to speak.


End file.
